


Illusions

by thecattydddy



Category: Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel, Marvel (Comics), The Mighty Thor
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Illusions, Loki Needs a Hug, Uncontrolled Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 16:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7941520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecattydddy/pseuds/thecattydddy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he is alone, Loki is haunted by various forms of himself. Only one person can really scare away the dark shadows, but given that that person would not see to speak to him ever again, he must settle instead for more tricks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Illusions

**Author's Note:**

> So, this kinda takes place prior to The Mighty Thor (2016) and deals with Loki's inner turmoil over everything that's happened, especially regarding his bad break-up with Thor. If you have read tMT, you'll probably remember the one scene where he's fighting Jane and he brings forth a bunch of different versions of himself and I thought it'd be kinda cool if I made each one of those versions a manifestation of some emotion or idea he was struggling with. All comments and constructive criticism is super appreciated!

It’s peculiar, Loki muses, that he always seems to surround himself with people who aren’t truly there. Part of him, the part of him he preferred to listen to, linked it to a lack of experience in controlling his own abilities and his troubled mental state. Another part of him thought he did it just as a way to dispel the loneliness, but he didn’t let himself dwell on that thought.

A hand came down over the crown of his head and ruffled his hair, knocking some of the strands into his face. He made an indignant sounds, which only caused a boom of laughter to come from above him, the sound akin to the rumble of thunder. Loki looked up and couldn’t help the slight upturn to his lips at the beam the other sent back to him. Ghost or no, seeing that smile, seeing it directed at _him_ , it brought a touch of happiness to his heart, even if it also brought the reminder that Thor – The _real_ Thor – would probably never smile at him like that, again.

“You look so serious, Brother,” Thor noted, taking a seat beside Loki. The illusion was a good one, enough to mimic the smell of battle that always seemed to waft off the Odinson and the warmth of close proximity with another being. “What troubles thee?”

“Nothing, Brother,” Loki answers simply. Thor had been making regular appearances ever since Verity had been restored to her mortal body. She’d left with the promise to keep in touch, but after days turned into months, illusions began filling in the empty spaces she’d once inhabited. He thought to call her every now-and-again, but the fear that maybe his best friend never wanted to speak to him again plagued his mind and he couldn’t bring himself to follow through on it and answer the unsettling question.

“It doth not seem like _nothing_ ,” Thor stated, that pointed tone taking to his voice that way he did when he knew Loki was lying, especially about himself. Well, one of the many tones he took at least, given who Loki was, times of truth were far and in-between.

_Who he was_. Loki gave a bitter snort. After basically restarting the whole of their universe, Loki was still chasing away that pesky title, like it was a sick dog. No longer how many times he kicked it, it just seemed to keep straggling along behind him, begging for scraps. This Loki’s resolve was strong, he’d already proven that, but that did not make the burden any lighter a load. The thought that his own brother hated him so much that he would rather hide away from the whole of Asgard than face him, possibly one of the heaviest. Hiemdel proved unhelpful and any gracious wisdom that Odin had once held for him was tossed into the embers of a dying fire as he became caught up in his war against this new Thor. His own mother sat behind bars and had once again asked of him a task that would make him a nothing but a villain in Asgard’s eyes.

“Brother,” Thor broke the silence that lasted too long, his hard hand settling over Loki’s shoulder as if to offer comfort. It was strong, reassuring, and it broke his heart. “Your conscious is heavy. Be not afraid to speak it.”

Perhaps, if the young Loki had been a manifestation of his guilt, Thor was then desire. A desire to be loved, forgiven. A hope that maybe he could be different than who he was. A hope that would spit in his face should he ever encounter it, but then what is Loki’s life than not a reassuring story?

Suspension of disbelief could only stretch so far, though, and he brushed his fingers violently though his brother’s form, Thor washing away like smoke and fading from view. He did not deserve to hold onto this desire and it could only be as powerful as he would let it be. “That’s quite enough out of you.”

“I quite agree. His heroic gestures are unsanitary at best and downright disgusting more often than not,” a voice stated from somewhere around him. Loki need only turn to see the other version of him, an illusion taking the form of his twisted and former self. It sneered at his pitiful state. “Aw, is poor wittle Loki sad? Cheer up, welp. You might just stop being so pathetic if you at least fake a smile.”

“It’s not as if he has much to smile for.” A younger voice pointed out and Loki couldn’t look, couldn’t bring himself to face it. Not right now; Guilt, an old and hurtful friend. “You kill a child and break your brother’s heart and it begins to weigh heavy on your soul.”

“Only a child would think such foolish things.” This voice more distinctly feminine than the last. Loki felt himself wrapping his arms around his form, trying not to listen to the bickering over his head. If Thor was a desire for love, then she would be a desire for power, the ability of a man – or a woman perhaps – to fight ferociously to stand above others. “We waste our time sitting here bickering among ourself when we should be out, claiming a world that should be ours.”

“We don’t do that sort of thing now,” Guilt pointed out, confident and unafraid despite his youth. “We’re making amends for our wrongs of the past.”

“Wrongs! I dare say that those _wrongs_ you speak of were works of _art_!” History hissed, his eyes darkening in insult.

“ _Art_ he says! As if he knows the word.” This Loki, a king, begs to be worship, accepted, achieved for. He who is what everyone inevitably claims will come. He who fills his mind with inevitability. “Our _future_ holds art, if the idiot would just _accept it_ , already! All this _making amends_ is just stalling the inevitable!”

“Your father would disapprove heavily of this,” another voice adds, youthful but hardened, as if a boy held in place by a cold and unforgiving hand; Legacy. “All your weeping and moaning is unbecoming.”

“Which father?” Power sneered, her arms crossing over her chest, “The oafish slaughter or the thoughtless tyrant? Not that it matters much. Neither deserve but a footnote in my story.”

“And in the end they will fall in a war we bring about, just as they always have before,” Fate grinned, excitedly, “And with no one to blame but themselves! You brought this upon yourself, _Daddy Dearest_!”

“We’re not going to do that!” Guilt argued, “We’re different now!”

“Really?” History cooed, his fingers coming to rest on Loki’s shoulders from behind and his mouth came close enough to speak in his ear. “Because all I see is a scared, lonely little boy who already grew up to be me, once upon a time.”

“Please go away,” Loki found himself whispering, his voice miserable.

“You’re weak,” Legacy scoffed. “You do not deserve to be Frost Giant or Asgardian. You shame them both.”

“Because trying to be either of those would _clearly_ bring us happiness,” Guilt laughed, mockingly. “Following footsteps of men who would not show us love if it were between that or death. If we were to seek to follow anyone, it should be to the brother we’ve betrayed.” An uproar rose up among the illusions, but his mind blocked their bickering out, focusing in on Guilt’s statement. A reminder why he was winning. Because when guilt spoke, it struck him harder than anyone else. It tore away at his insides like a wild beast upon it’s prey.

“I’m sorry,” Loki said, his voice too quiet to be heard quite yet. “Please, Thor… I’m sorry! Come back! _Come back!_ ”

Silence suddenly struck around him, an argument snuffed out in an instant. A heavy hand settled on his head, tussling his hair in a way that made a few strands fall out of place and into his vision. He risked a glance upward, his eyes meeting the understanding blue of his brother’s gaze. The illusions that had once taken shape swirled around inside him at the sight of the Odinson. “Are thee to be honest with me, yet, Brother?”

But honesty, Loki found, is what had driven Thor away in the first place. Had caused his brother to turn away from him as if he were naught but an unwanted pest that had taken refuge in his home. Wetness pricked at his eyes and he was unable to will it away. “No, but… But I would have you stay with me.”

“Oh? And why is that?” Thor wondered, though he still let himself sit at Loki’s side. The trickster leaned his head on his brother’s shoulder, taking the kindness of an illusion over the dark thoughts of another.

Loki sighed, trying to think of what his younger self might say, what the Loki Thor wanted would have said. Loki curled a hand in Thor’s cape, a childish but necessary reassurance to himself. Thor did not seem to mind it. “I’m… I’m not fond of the others. When you are here, they stay away.”

“Are you scared, Brother?” Thor asks, his tone teasing more than anything. It is sickeningly brotherly and Loki cannot help but think he doesn’t _deserve_ it.

“No!” he balks, making a move to pull away, but Thor simply pulled him closer by an arm over his shoulder and placed a chaste kiss to Loki’s temple.

“Good,” Thor said, the comedy gone a moment from his words. “For you need not be. I am here to protect thee… Even from thyself.” Loki felt the first few tears trickle down his face and tried, unsuccessfully, to not think about how the real Thor would never say those words he so desperately wanted to hear.

**Author's Note:**

> Please raise your hand if Agent Of Asgard messed you the heck up.


End file.
